A swan to be knits and spins

El

On of the most embarrassing aspects of my bogging hiatus was not posting the birth of my second child. I had lots of reasons at the time, but still. You blog a baby.

A very newborn Elliot J. R. C. Yes, he has two middle names, like his brother and his father.

Elliot was born on his due date, June 21. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy that he was born on Midsummer. As a side note, Tamara won my due date contest. Must get yarn for her.

I’ve said for a while that Emerson is my heart. I think most mothers feel like their hearts have been taken out of their chests, and placed in their children. I love Em with everything I have in me. But, Elliot. What about him? Elliot is my soul. He was a big surprise, a crying-in-the-shower kind of surprise, but he’s the soul in me I thought had died. Look at his face and tell me you can’t see it.

My sweet Elliot, 9 months, in hand-me-down longies

I was surprised with Elliot at how very different two children of the same parents can be, especially from birth. Em was a big, solid baby. Never more than 50th to 70th percentile, but just a solid core. Elliot, on the other hand, is a tiny thing. At his nine month appointment a few weeks ago I literally danced when he reached the 12th percentile. He’s just a long skinny thing. And when I say long, I mean long. Em wore these longies to Rhinebeck ’08, at 15 months old.

Although the length is spot-on, the waists was drastically too big. El “helped” me crochet a chain for a drawstring.

I thought I blogged about these when I knit them for Em, but I can’t seem to find a post. Here’s Em in them at around 15 months:

Blurry again, this time due to a hyper-moving toddler. I dont' think I got a single focused shot for six months

And here they are on El at NINE months. At seven months he was taller than Em was at 12.

Hard to see, but they reach to a hair's breath of the same length as they did on Em.

So, there you have him. My smallest man, both in and out of handknits. Never fear, you’ll see him again soon, I’m sure, as the poor child needs a blanket from mama.

I’ll never forget that sweet little guy falling asleep on my chest repeatedly, and how hard it was to focus on ANYTHING else while his cuteness overpowered all my senses. Gorgeous little man.
I still think of him as Murray, btw.